By Nathaniel FrankNathaniel Frank of New York City is working on his Ph.D. in history at Brown
University. His research explores economic development and maleidentity in 19th-century America.

"The ["don't ask, don't tell"] policy shows the military to be out of step
with a growing American consensus that believes differences ought to be tolerated when they have no bearing on performance ability"

ust weeks before the U.S. military launched air strikes against Serb forces
in Yugoslavia, the Senate voted to give American troops their largest pay and
pension increase in nearly two decades. The vote followed unprecedented public
outreach initiated by Secretary of Defense William Cohen to "reconnect America
to its military." Seeking to drum up support for new funding requests, reverse
declining numbers of enlistees and improve the overall image of a military
force that many Americans view as less and less relevant, Cohen is traveling
the country trying to appeal to bright, educated young people who increasingly
opt for careers in business or technology.

But the pay raises will not be enjoyed by the more than 1,000 soldiers
expected to be booted from the service this year for being gay, lesbian or
bisexual. The military's current policy on sexuality, known as "don't ask,
don't tell," allows homosexuals to serve but requires them to avoid any mention
of their sexuality and to remain celibate for the duration of their service.
Last year a record 1,145 people were fired under the terms of the policy -
three to four each day. The second-class status of gay soldiers was inscribed
into federal law in 1993 even though no study has ever linked openly gay
service with impairing combat performance.

If the Pentagon is genuinely concerned about improving its image, it might
begin by scrapping "don't ask, don't tell," a last bastion of federal
discrimination against gay and lesbian soldiers. The policy shows the military
to be out of step with a growing American consensus that believes differences
ought to be tolerated when they have no bearing on performance ability. A
recent Gallup poll showed that 65 percent of the American public favors
allowing gays to be soldiers; even among the military's own rank and file,
opposition to gay service has plummeted, from 63 percent in 1993 to 36 percent
last year.

While the proportion of troops forcibly ousted by "don't ask, don't tell" is
rather small, the overall damage reaches far beyond a handful of wrecked
careers. The discharge numbers fail to count the thousands of gay soldiers and
officers who abandon military service because their lives are ruled by an
atmosphere of repression and indignity. For those willing and able to stay in
the closet, the policy creates what one federal judge has called "a degrading
and deplorable condition for remaining in the armed services." And the numbers
ignore those who continue to be barred outright from entry: For the young gays
and lesbians courageous enough to admit who they are in high school or college,
military service - with its incomparable personal, professional and financial
rewards - remains an impossibility. Once you're out of the closet, you can't
exactly go back in.

But the policy affects more, even, than the small minority of Americans who
identify as gay or lesbian. The Pentagon wastes millions of dollars every year
in investigating, removing and replacing gay troops. Meanwhile, it spends
millions more in pay increases, advertisements and other incentives to fill
vacant slots, many of which only became vacant because gay soldiers were
expelled. As the American public considers the nation's budgetary priorities in
coming months, it may rightly resent supporting the billions of dollars
requested by a Pentagon whose resolve to discriminate outweighs its commitment
to fiscal prudence.

More important, by creating a climate that is blindly intolerant of sexual
difference, the policy may alienate thousands of potential recruits who might
fear that their own subtle differences will meet with scorn and rejection. The
message is that anyone who doesn't fit conventional notions of what it means to
be a "real man" or a "real woman" is somehow dangerous, ineffectual, or both.
It suggests that only the straightest of arrows - in the narrowest sense - can
find success and acceptance in military service. A military culture that seems
bent on shoring up its machismo credentials projects the image of an
aggressively masculine culture, homophobic at its core, led by a small circle
of commanding men who bristle at the prospect of taking orders from anyone
outside the Pentagon.

Making the military a more welcome place for gays and lesbians would not
fill the vacancies vexing the Pentagon. It would, however, send a strong
message that the military is not an alien culture, but reflects the tolerant
and inclusive America it exists to serve. It would be a great step toward
reminding America of the values and ideals that are worth defending.